The year which was
by BrighterBirdie
Summary: A certain doctor has a certain problematic new companion.  AU.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Yes, it makes me sad too. I'm trying to work through it. Suing me would not help with the process. So if you could not, that would be really super nice of you. _

There was a certain justice in it, he decided. The cage he had held the Doctor in, (or hadn't held him in, did it still count if it had now never happened?) was in the corner of his eye, mocking him as the Doctor cuffed his hands behind his back, still irritatingly gentle. He jerked irritably, and the cuffs cut into his wrists. _not quite gentle enough, _he thought bitterly. Martha Jones was watching him warily, and he did not doubt that she would have no compunctions about hurting him. Not that he could blame her, and it would almost be worth it to see the Doctor's face. He favored her with a sardonic smile before allowing himself to be led out of the room.

"And what are you planning to do with me now?"  
>"Keep you." The Doctor tried to smile. Trying to make friends. The master grimaced.<br>"Of course you are." The Master tried to keep the edge of hysteria out of his voice. "Maybe if you manage to save little old me, I'll be able to absolve you of your sins." He laughed, the insane edge to his humor which rose with the beat of the drums, crashing around him like a comforting second set of heartbeats. "Not fucking likely."  
>The Doctor's face was surprisingly serene. "What else can I do?"<br>"Let me go." The Master answered promptly.  
>The doctor grimaced. "Not likely."<br>"Leave me with UNIT. Toss me into the nearest supernova. I'm sure that Tourchwood would take me if you asked nicely." he grinned, baring his teeth. "But you won't do that, will you? If I were anything else, you wouldn't even have a second thought, would you? You've done that, decided that some things were too dangerous to live. But you're never going to get rid of me, are you? You're just that desperate. You're always going to think that you can 'reform' me." He giggled. "Well, I'd rather not cater to your sad delusions of heroism if it's all the same to you."  
>"You don't have a choice." The Doctor's face was impassive, but his eyes were tired, showing the strain year that now never had been, but he remained courteous. But that was their entire relationship all over again, the Master thought bitterly.<br>"How could I possibly have guessed."  
>"Would you like to be shown around the TARDIS now? A few things have moved." The Master swore under his breath but followed the Doctor up the stairs.<p>

The Master flopped bonelessly across the squashy red armchair which he had somehow managed to move into the control room. "Can I at least lose the handcuffs?"

"If you go back to your room first." The Master sat back and kicked his feet up onto the main console. It twisted his arms painfully behind his back, but the Doctor's face flashed with quickly-concealed irritation which made it more than worth it.

"You mean cell?"

The Doctor sighed exasperatedly. "We've been through this before, Master. It's a suite. It's got it's own swimming pool."

The master held his hands before him, idly watching light glint across the cuffs. "Right next to the door with bars on it?"

"What do you want out here that you don't have in there?"

"The company." The Master's voice was flat with sarcasm and unconcealed contempt

"How can I trust you not to tamper with the TARDIS?"

The Master shrugged and kicked his shoes off on top of the console. "That's your problem."

"Of course." The Doctor's voice was dry. "Your problem, on the other hand, is that the door next to the swimming pool has bars on it, and there's nothing you can do about it."

The Master raised his eyebrows. "All I'm asking for is a little trust here." He smiled sweetly.

The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair. "How can I trust you?" The master opened his mouth to answer, but the doctor held up a hand to cut him off "No. It was a rhetorical question. Because I can't trust any answer you give. A paradox." the Doctor's mouth twisted. "you'd know all about those though."

The Master's face stilled and became serious. "You can't expect us to stay like this forever. The situation is untenable."

The Doctor smiled sadly. "We can stay like this for as long as we need to." The Master shivered. _Forever,_ whispered a voice in the back of the Master's mind. _Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and..._ The words merged with the pattern of the drum beats, breaking his concentration. "You're pathological, has anyone ever mentioned it?" he whispered. His mouth was dry.

A humorless smile flickered across the doctor's face. "I've heard it said."

The Master resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall in frustration. "Look, is there anything that I can do convince you to let me out of these? Anything at all?"

"Not that I know of. I'm sorry." The Doctor studied his hands.

"Argh!" The mater stood and stalked out of the room. The Doctor watched go before turning back to the console. He disconnected wires and added parts. Once he stopped and pricked his own finger before pulling on a pair of goggles to shield his face from the regular sprays of sparks. After about half an hour, he called the Master. Three times. The Doctor sighed, left the console room, and wandered through the hexagonal hallways to the Master's rooms. He knocked politely before entering, and found the master sitting in his smaller version of the TARDIS's library, book held open in his hands and eyes staring blankly into space, one finger tapping out the incessant rhythm of four. The Doctor rapped softly on the edge of the nearest shelf to announce his presence. The Master started, snapping his book closed, then stood.

"Yes Doctor? Come to gloat?"

"I came to tell you that you can come out now. I've fixed the TARDIS and she won't respond to you. I'll need to clear other people before they can use it, and they'll need to show DNA and retina before they can drive, but it should be enough." He smiled hopefully. _weakly,_ the Master thought. The Master gave it perhaps a few hours before he could get through the Doctor's precautions. He returned the doctor's smile with a sober nod. He pretended not to see the Doctor's face brighten as he jumped up left the room.

_Any reviews or comments would make me love you forever and ever.  
><em>


	2. Chapter 2

Reviews are love. :)

"You know, domesticity really doesn't suit you." The master grabbed the edge of the counter and used it to spin himself on his stool.  
>"mmm." The doctor focused on the eggs, prodding them across the pan.<br>"You should stop doing that. It looks like you're poking some giant slug or something."

The doctor glanced up in irritation. "Maybe if you hadn't ruined my best frying pan with the first batch, I'd make you come over here and do it yourself."

The master grinned wickedly. "Maybe that was the point. Maybe the point was to get you to come and ruin my appetite with your butchering of chicken fetuses and prodding of gelatinous masses across your second-best frying pan." He paused for a moment and sent a pointed glance towards the stove. "I'm not sure I'm in the mood for eggs anymore."

The doctor winced. The master wasn't sure if it was over the eggs or whether the reminder of his lost cooking utensil was still fresh. "As much as I adore your gift for... vivid imagery, some of us are trying to make breakfast over here." He scraped the eggs onto a pair of mismatched plates, one blue and rimmed with daisies, the other apparently handpainted by a small child with a pained-looking horse on it. The horse appeared to be grinning. He set the daisy plate down in front of the master and turned to pour two glasses of a magenta juice. The master picked up his fork and poked at the eggs dubiously.

"I'm not sure these are edible doctor" The doctor rolled his eyes.

"Listen to the cannibal talk. The eggs are fine."

The master sniffed. "Maybe I'm trying to reform my ways."

"Yes, and maybe the thirteen moons of Tarbirath leapt out of the sky to learn to tango. Or maybe not."

The master pushed away his plate and folded his arms. "Either way, I'm not eating it."

The doctor sighed. "You're such a child sometimes."

The master looked affronted. "I'm a child? I'm not the one who's wandering around every boring dust-ball in the galaxy going on and on about how fascinating the latest bunch of primeval apes is and complaining about having to do a few dishes."

"You're right. I do travel, and that's because I grew out of universal domination schemes by the time I was six." He picked up his fork and jabbed it viciously into his plate. "And it's not a few dishes. I think the the egg is welded to the pan."

"I think you're a bit jealous of me doctor. Imagining what you could be if you didn't have all those pesky little rules."

"Completely insane? Thanks for the offer, I'll pass."

"But just think of how much more you could see, and do."

"Like you did?"

"'I went chasing wild after the wildest beauty in the world.'"

"At which point you subjugated it to your will."

"At which point I got bored."

The doctor turned away and scowled at his eggs. The master grabbed his plate and headed for the garbage disposal chute to put them out of their misery.

"You know, there are starving children in Africa who would kill for those." The doctor's tone was petulant.

"By the twenty-seventh century, Africa is the richest place on earth. I'm sure they'll survive." The master paused. "Or not. I can't say that I'm terribly concerned either way"

"Has anyone ever mentioned that a little more self-control exercised on the more destructive aspects of your personality might go a long way?"

"Yes, I wake up and look at myself in the mirror and wonder 'how can I make starving orphans in Africa in the twenty-first century more miserable today'."

The doctor shrugged. "Wouldn't put it past you."

The master rolled his eyes. "Bigger fish to fry, Doctor."

The doctor's face tightened. "Like what?"

The master blinked. "Nothing."

"No. Like what?"

"Doctor, at the moment, my highest priority is to get out of this little blue box. My very highest priority. Which means that it is very much in my best interest to not cause trouble."

The doctor's eyes narrowed. "Because I don't want to stay in this stupid little space doing this stupid little dance for eternity. And that's what you've signed up for, you know? You and I, with you as my jail keeper for eternity?" He laughed bitterly. "As much as I love the quality bonding time, I don't think I like you quite that much."

"I can't let you out when you might hurt someone. If you'd just let me in... I could fix the drums."

"I don't think so." The master smiled thinly.

"You have to let me try. And the TARDIS might help too, over time."

"I don't have to do anything." He bit off the last world precisely, angrily.

The doctor's face was a wordless appeal. The master dropped his plate in the sink with a clatter. The noise provided no respite at all.

"It's getting worse, isn't it." The doctor's eyes were pitying. The master threw his fork after his plate with far too much force.

"They're there, all the time." The master resisted the urge to rub his hands over his face. "And it's quiet, and there's nothing, no forward motion to take them away." His face contorted. "There's nothing to do on your stupid fucking box, and as much as I would love spending the rest of my life catering to your stupid little messiah complex, I really don't think that it would help my sanity in the slightest." The doctor watched him with pity. The master swallowed his pride. "And noise and motion and life and things to do drown them out. At least for a little while." He turned away. "Which is why it is imperative, Doctor, that you let me out at some point before we both end up bonkers." There, he thought. If that doesn't get me out, nothing will.

The doctor swallowed once, then nodded. "All right." He looked stricken. The master masked swelling triumph with a facade of irritation. "Where would you like to go?"


End file.
